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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28129842">Mark Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrybabyxx/pseuds/sorrybabyxx'>sorrybabyxx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gemillaneve Debauchery [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Established Relationship, F/F, Fingering, Knife Kink, Knife Play, Multi, Threesome - F/F/F, i dont know how to tag this but they cut gemma be warned., smut but also some character stuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:09:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28129842</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrybabyxx/pseuds/sorrybabyxx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gemma asks for a scar.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gemma/Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gemillaneve Debauchery [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mark Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is very niche.<br/>It's a one-shot based on a twitter convo about Gemma getting jealous of V and E's scars from months ago.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gemma had been benched. From the edge of their bed, she spectated Villanelle and Eve together. They did this sometimes, sidelined one of them while the other two got to play. It was an exercise in restraint. A kind of foreplay. But the ousted party was always invited back in, finished off by four hands and the other’s full attention.</p><p>Usually, this would be easy for her. Gemma just had to enjoy the show and survive the short time outside of their embrace.</p><p>Eve and Villanelle remained involved when it was their turn to watch, heckling and commenting from the sidelines. Imposing their will even without touch. Gemma on the other hand found herself going quiet, insular, letting the sight of two of her lovers together add a spark to the hand between her legs.</p><p>Tonight, Gemma felt miles away from them. In truth, she wasn’t even out of their reach. Eve had even touch Gemma’s knee, a tender inclusion, before she was pulled back into Villanelle.</p><p>There were few moments, even in their unconventional relationship, where Gemma truly felt the sting of jealously. She loved them both, but it was hard to watch their hands gravitate toward their scarred flesh, no matter the position. They anchored themselves to one another by their scars. Eve would trace the line on Villanelle’s abdomen while she was between her legs. She’d find it when Villanelle was on top of her and when she was beneath her.</p><p>Villanelle had a harder time keeping in contact with Eve’s scar. She contorted herself in all sorts of ways to reach Eve’s shoulder.</p><p>The stinging jealousy had started out small. A little burn in Gemma’s chest that grew every time she watched them like this. She tried to challenge it, pat the rogue flames out before they spread, but they’d climbed up her throat and when she didn’t use them to speak, they pushed even further alerting her tear ducts. Now with wobbling nostrils, she fought back the urge to cry.</p><p>The watery smear of Villanelle and Eve was still too much, Gemma looked away, biting her lip. Hoping the physical pain would confuse her body long enough for her to swallow down the feeling, sending it south again to smoulder, unspoken and unaddressed in her chest.</p><p>She missed them finishing, well, Villanelle finishing Eve.</p><p>Villanelle crawled across the bed to Gemma, taking in her distracted naked state, the idle fingers resting in her lap. Knotting their hands together and reeling Gemma back in, Villanelle asked, “Need help with that?”</p><p>The tears Gemma had been fighting threatened to spill over. Villanelle would notice something was wrong as soon as Gemma met her eyes. So, she let her momentum carry her past Villanelle to fall onto Eve’s chest where she buried her face. She told herself she just needed a moment to gather herself, so merely locking eyes with them didn’t trigger waterworks.</p><p>Eve let out an ‘oof’ not prepared for Gemma to throw herself over her. Her arms instinctively encircled her as she asked Villanelle, “What did you do?”</p><p>Shuffling back to them, Villanelle threw up her hands. “I didn’t do anything.”</p><p>Gemma clamped her eyes shut, wringing out a tear or two. Maybe if Gemma just laid here long enough, she could wait them out, and they would fall asleep and forget about this.</p><p>Eve’s hand started rubbing Gemma’s back. She totally felt the tears gathering in the divot between her breasts. Eve’s guess rumbled in Gemma’s ear, “You didn’t like being left out?”</p><p>It was more right than wrong. So, Gemma, not trusting her voice, nodded against Eve.</p><p>There was a light smack.</p><p>“Ow, how is this my fault? She usually likes it,” Villanelle whined, but her hand joined Eve’s in rubbing soothing circles on Gemma’s back.</p><p>Gemma felt ridiculous. It got worse the more they acknowledged it.</p><p>Eve’s hands shifted to Gemma’s shoulders, peeling off to try and see her face. Quickly, Gemma sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, covering her face with her hands. “It’s fine, really. Can we just go to sleep?”</p><p>They followed her, rising on either side of her. Eve’s arm settled around Gemma’s waist while Villanelle’s chin perched on her shoulder.</p><p>Eve moved to gently pinch Villanelle’s side. “Say you’re sorry, V.”</p><p>Villanelle jumped, her chin lifting off Gemma to pivot on Eve. Gemma could feel the silent conversation they were having behind her. Gemma usually liked them fighting over her, but not like this.</p><p>She cut in, voice trembling, before Villanelle could fire whatever retaliation she had planning, “It’s not that.”</p><p>They both go soft, squishing into her as their arms come around her. Villanelle pressed her face into Gemma’s hair before prompting her, “Then what is it?”</p><p>Gemma could feel their eyes measuring her face, their hands rubbing her back. It didn’t matter how nice or understanding they were being, this was mortifying.</p><p>Gemma was stubborn. She stayed silent as her mind was split between manufacturing an excuse and mustering up the courage to say the truth. When she finally committed to one, her eyes were welling up, and after a big ol’ sniffle she said, “It’s just that you two share something I’ll never be a part of...”</p><p>That was as far as Gemma got before she was forced to break off at the verge of sobbing.</p><p>A hand on her back paused.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Eve sounded <em>very</em> confused and a little concerned.</p><p>On her other side, Villanelle moved to look at her properly and eagerly offered, “We could go again. Right now. With all three of us.”</p><p>Gemma finally burst. “The scars! I’m jealous of the scars.”</p><p>“You’re jealous because of our scars?” Villanelle clarified, just shy of snorting.</p><p>
  <em>Our scars.</em>
</p><p>Gemma held herself tighter.</p><p>Yes, horribly jealous.</p><p>“Scars that we only have because we tried to hurt each other. Do you wish we’d tried to hurt <em>you</em>?” Eve said, all cool logic.</p><p>“No,” Gemma admitted haughtily, though it did little to dispel her feelings. She let go of her knees and finally sure how to voice her point managed to look between the two of them as she spoke. “But they are more than that, aren’t they? Especially, now you’re together and you don’t want to-”</p><p>“Kill each other?” Villanelle supplied.</p><p>“Yeah. It’s like you’ve claimed each other. You are forever buried in one another’s flesh. A gift to one another.”</p><p>Taking that as a cue, Villanelle pressed further into Gemma, her nose squishing into her cheek, lips at her ear, guiding Gemma’s hand into her lap. “You could be buried in me too,” she purred, laying her hand on Gemma’s thigh and adding, “And I could be buried in you.”</p><p>Despite herself, Gemma danced away from Villanelle’s lips, dragging them back into the discussion she’d been trying so hard to avoid moments ago. What Villanelle was offering was far too temporary.</p><p>“But I want that,” she started, fingers found Villanelle’s scar in the meat of her scrunch stomach. Gemma looked between them both, distilling her inner turmoil into one clear demand. “I want you two to mark me.”</p><p>This was not some spontaneous misguided request, akin to getting a partner’s name blazoned across her forehead. They were sitting in their bed, in their house for Christ’s sake. They’d talked about the future, what marriage and next steps would look like for them. They’d even discussed buying a house together when they outgrew Gemma’s grans house. Gemma was all in.  Sure, the request was a little unconventional and more twisted than a tattoo or a wedding ring, but it was more them.</p><p>It made sense, at least to Gemma.</p><p>Her bravery dissolved however, as Eve went quiet and Villanelle shuffled away from them.</p><p>“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Eve started, trepidation drawing out her words.</p><p>Behind them Villanelle was rummaging in the drawers of her bedside table. She produced a knife. Eve and Gemma turned to watch the blade whip out of the handle as Villanelle eagerly said, “Where do you want it, Princess?”</p><p>The sight both frightened and excited Gemma.</p><p>Villanelle had knives stashed all over the house to Gemma and Eve’s dismay, in the bathroom, specifically, in the communal pad drawer, in the laundry inside the odd sock box. Eve had found one duct tapped under their dining room table the other night. She hoarded them. But this knife was intimately familiar to Gemma. It was the knife they used to cut each other free from bondage. Their key.</p><p>The knife in Villanelle’s hand made Gemma recall it so easily. Ropes holding her how they wanted her. Tits squeezed, bursting through diamond patterns in the rope work. How she’d turned to liquid by the end, the loops and knots the only thing holding her together. That’s when they’d retrieve the knife and set her free, aware Gemma was far too fragile for the ritual in reverse even with four hands to untie her. Blade in hand, Villanelle would draw it out, measuring Gemma’s restraint before letting its unsharpened end nestle against the hollow of her sternum, against the rope and release her.</p><p>“Who said you get to do it?” Eve said, her need to compete with Villanelle suddenly more important than her initial hesitation.</p><p>“I’m the professional here.” Villanelle bugged out her eyes, offended that this was even up for debate.</p><p>Eve shuffled towards Villanelle. “I did yours.”</p><p>Villanelle looked down, poked the thin, silvery line of her scar. “I nearly bled out! Don’t pull the knife out. It’s like rule number one.”</p><p>“Give me that,” Eve scoffed, reaching for the knife. “Like yours was so clean.”</p><p>Villanelle merely lifted it above her head, out of Eve’s reach. “I’m a great shot!”</p><p>“Should we give Konstantin a call?”</p><p>On the surface there was still a playful element to their disagreement. That evaporated when Eve got a hold of Villanelle’s wrist and they started wrestling for knife.</p><p>Barely holding Eve off, Villanelle turned-on Gemma and teased, “It’s okay, you can tell her you want<em> me </em>to do it. I know I’m your favourite.”</p><p>Some of Gemma’s doubt and jealousy drained away watching them fight over her. Part of her was tempted to let them carry on, the other part of her was very aware of the open knife. Instead, she reminded them, for what must have been the thousandth time that they could share.</p><p>The solution cooled their competitive fury and it allowed Eve’s rational mind to prevail. This was not something to be done on a whim. Too deep and Gemma would need stitches. Too shallow and it would fade. Gemma wanted something forever, like theirs, something folded into the layers of her being, that would fade only when she did. This would require restraint.</p><p>“Not tonight.” Eve’s tone was final. A door closing.</p><p>Villanelle sputtered, “But-”</p><p>Eve cut her off. “Don’t you want to make it special?” Eve held Villanelle’s eyes for a moment, before she reluctantly folded away the knife, won over by making this a grander affair. Then she looked to Gemma. “And you need to consider this properly.”</p><p>It was Gemma’s turn to feebly protest. Eve’s stubborn expression made her stop short. “But …”</p><p>Closing the gap between them, Eve tucked Gemma’s hair behind her ear. “You said it yourself, it’s something given, a gift, right? Why not give us a chance to make it special?”</p><p>The pleading edge in Eve’s voice wasn’t lost on Gemma.</p><p>Eve had always been cautious with Gemma, like she was something delicate. At every stage of their relationship, she’d built in an easy out for Gemma. Eve expected that one day she’d wake up and realise she didn’t want this, didn’t want them. Gemma’s ambitions and her life were so normal (before Villanelle and Eve had crashed into her). Eve had made peace with the fact she would never have a normal life when she chose Villanelle, but she wasn’t so sure Gemma would or could make the same choice.</p><p>Gemma nodded, consenting to the slower path Eve had in mind.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Privacy was a rarity with the three of them under one roof. They leveraged every day at work, every dash to the shops to plan without Gemma’s presence.</p><p>Villanelle, as usual was going all in, punctuating every moment. Things Eve hadn’t even considered. She ordered a knife for the occasion; she tracked its path and updated Eve on its progress every morning. Eve was bogged down in the logistics, safety, the when and where. It helped her avoid her own nerves.</p><p>It turned out premeditation changed things for Eve. There was too much to consider, the meaning of it, the permanency of it. It shocked her right into the regret she felt after stabbing Villanelle, the handle stirring in Eve’s hand with Villanelle’s panicked breath. It didn’t get easier to go back there, it got harder the further her and Villanelle drifted away from being adversaries.</p><p>Their scars were so many things. Marks that bound them just as Gemma had said, tied their fates. They also served as a reminder of where they’d got it wrong. A sign of the second chance they’d been given – well it might be a third chance at this point. Nonetheless, surviving all of that and coming together had brought them to Gemma. It felt wrong to burden Gemma with a similar mark and to force her to be bound to them.</p><p>Villanelle didn’t share Eve’s trepidation as she sat across from her, feet up on the dining table, her head tipped back as she examined the ceiling in deep thought.</p><p>They’d been mulling over the same question with no solution for days. They couldn’t decide where to put this hypothetical mark. Gemma’s job narrowed the available real-estate. </p><p>“Ok. Ok.” Villanelle raised her hand, calling Eve’s attention to her. “I’ve got it. On the count of three, name your favourite part of Gemma’s body.”</p><p>“1…2…3,” Villanelle counted it out on her fingers.</p><p>Their voices merged. “Her tits.”</p><p>Immediately, Eve shook her head, her hands fiddling with the note Gemma had left them to say she was running to the shops. “We can’t do it there. That’s sacred ground.”</p><p>“Her stomach?”</p><p>“Then you two would match,” Eve said as Pompom hopped onto her lap. The cat purred as she scratched behind his ears.</p><p>He didn’t even abandon her when the front door unlocked. Gemma bumbled, heavy bags of shopping tipping her off balance. Villanelle got up to take some from her.</p><p>Once they’d dumped the bags in the kitchen, Eve asked, “Are you still sure you want to do this?”</p><p>Gemma didn’t need her to clarify what ‘this’ was. Her answer was swift. “Absolutely.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Gemma smiled at her, not pausing in her unpacking. “Because I’m sure about you two, silly.”</p><p>Wordlessly, Villanelle helped her, sure of where every box and tin went, just as Eve did. Eve could remember when they first moved in together, the way Pompom refused to be in a room alone with anyone but Gemma. The teething period where the two of them tried to find a place for their things inside Gemma’s house. The slow process of memorising the contents of drawers and cupboards. The transition from feeling like she was intruding to feeling truly comfortable here.</p><p>It was only in that moment, watching their own brand of normality Eve realised this place had become her home. This annoying cat. These two women. That felt more monumental, more life changing than any scar.</p><p>“Okay,” Eve said to herself, scuffing behind Pompom’s ears again, finally on board with all of this.</p><p>“Maybe we should decide what we are doing before we decide where? That’s how I like to plan my kills, really helps shape the process,” Villanelle mused, continuing their discussion as if Gemma weren’t in the room.</p><p>Gemma’s eyes lit up as she said, “Why not just two lines, one each?”</p><p>“A tally. Metal.”</p><p>“Maybe not that then,” Gemma muttered putting away the milk.</p><p>“You know, a ‘V’ has two strokes.”</p><p>“You’re not Zorro,” Eve snorted.</p><p>Gemma was a little more tactful with her rejection. “I’ll feel like I’ve been sponsored by that energy drink or something.”</p><p>At another dead end, Eve looked at her hands and found the note from Gemma pinned beneath them. It was signed with two kisses, one each, as always.</p><p>“What about an ‘X’ like a kiss,” Eve pivoted the note for them to see.</p><p>Gemma smiled. “Now, that I do like.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Eve and Gemma had their first true experience with Villanelle at the wrong end of a knife. For Eve, the knife, alive with heat from her thigh had hovered in the hollow of her clavicle. For Gemma, the knife materialised from Villanelle’s pocket, as she sliced the air between them and her disguise. The false accent slipped away as a brash Russian one took its place, consuming the outline of Kim as Villanelle spilled out over her edges. And everything changed for Villanelle when Eve cut into her.</p><p>It seemed natural that a knife had found its way into their relationship again, fated to bind them together once more.</p><p>Everything else was in place, they were just waiting on the knife. Though, it was technically a dagger – Villanelle had to keep correcting Eve.</p><p>It arrived on a Friday, while Gemma was at work. Villanelle and Eve unboxed it, sneaking a peek at the dagger. It was more menacing in the flesh than in the photographs. The blade was two sided, throwing back their warped reflections as they gazed at it. The redwood handle was sturdy, polished and slightly curved.</p><p>Eve could see Villanelle had picked it with Gemma in mind. It was simplistic but beautiful. An artifact more than a weapon.</p><p>Gemma sensed the shift in mood when she arrived home. Though she wasn’t sure why until they took her upstairs to find the box open and waiting on their bed.</p><p>Anticipation swelled in the air.</p><p>“Are you sure about this?” Eve’s voice came from beside her.</p><p>Eve had asked that question so many times in the past few weeks, but this was the time it truly counted. Gemma turned, met her eyes, and didn’t waver. “Yes.”</p><p>Eve nodded as a sureness settled over her. She wound her hair into a messy bun before circling behind Gemma. Villanelle took the dagger from the box, it hung at her side as she moved in front of Gemma. It felt like she was being circled as the two of them got into position.</p><p>Villanelle stopped short of Gemma, pointing at her outfit with the knife’s tip. “Take off any clothes you don’t want us to ruin.”</p><p>In a frenzy, Gemma shed her dress. She paused at her emerald green bra. It was one of her favourites, kept her back from hurting while letting the girls shine. The colour was incredible with her auburn hair and complemented the tone of her skin. It would be a shame to see it ruined but at the same time Gemma couldn’t bring herself to shorten the game Eve and Villanelle had planned. She set the straps back onto her shoulders. Besides, it was highly likely Villanelle would recoup any of the damages from tonight with a shopping spree.</p><p>“Ready,” Gemma announced, her nerves made her voice cheerful.</p><p>She felt Eve’s presence get close to her before she picked up on the sound of her bare feet padding through the carpet. Eve didn’t touch Gemma as a hand moved into view, open and expectant. Villanelle handed it the dagger; the hand disappeared.</p><p>Villanelle held Gemma’s gaze, making it clear she wasn’t meant to turn, she was meant to trust Eve.</p><p>The bra straps went first, nipped cleanly from the base of the band. They leapt like bungee cord before sliding off her shoulders. The bra, though it was never meant to be strapless, held. Its heavy load sagged and tipped forward.</p><p>Instead of undoing the bra, Eve fingered her way under the elastic strap to slip the dagger between it and Gemma’s skin. The straining elastic gave way, sharing the relief of the indented skin beneath it.</p><p>The once gorgeous bra fell at Villanelle’s feet. Then her hand curled around the form of Gemma’s ribcage, her thumb nestling under the fall of her breast.</p><p>“Eve,” Villanelle prompted, her voice hoarse.</p><p>Eve passed the dagger back for Villanelle to press the flat side of the blade to one of Gemma’s nipples. Her whole body reacted to the cold metal. Heat spread in her belly to counter it. When the nipple had hardened Villanelle flipped the blade and mirrored the action on the other nipple.</p><p>Gemma’s skin broke out in goosebumps. There was the impulse to shiver. To shake out the tension of her body, but she didn’t dare until Villanelle lifted the knife from her skin.</p><p>Villanelle’s hands fell to Gemma’s hips. She wanted to pull Gemma closer, to eliminate the gap between their bodies. She managed to restrain herself as Eve plucked the knife from her grasp without Gemma’s notice, who was too caught up in the tension in Villanelle’s touch.</p><p>The knife’s new location was made clear to Gemma as the blade started unzipping the diamond weave of her stockings. Slashed, the deconstructed garment gathered at her ankles.</p><p>Matching green lace underwear was all that remained as Eve pressed into her back, moulded to her to peek over her shoulder to watch the blade’s flat navigate down Gemma’s body. It buried beneath the lace and into coarse public hair that cushions Gemma’s delicate skin. Villanelle’s hand joined Eve’s as they turned the blade into the fabric. The intricate lace frayed with each slice, but it didn’t fall away, clinging to her damp centre until Villanelle tugged it free.</p><p>Another sleight of hand exchange and Eve’s pulled away as Villanelle squared up to Gemma. It forced her to consider if they’d choreographed this, it was all too deliberate, commencing without verbal communication.</p><p>In her periphery, Gemma spotted Eve moving as drawers opened and the quilt rumpled.</p><p>“Look at me,” Villanelle breathed, millimetres from her lips.</p><p>The hilt rested against Gemma’s throat as Villanelle drew their lips together. The knife’s edge played the strands of her hair, strumming their tension just shy of slicing.</p><p>It was a distraction, but Gemma fell into it, too soon Villanelle pulled them apart, turning her to discover Eve sitting at the end of their bed. Her legs were apart, set to Gemma’s dimensions. Her arms were raised, inviting Gemma to lay over her lap.</p><p>A spanking, right now? Gemma would normally be game, but something grander, fiercer, glinted in Villanelle’s hand. She didn’t hide her disappointment. “I thought I was getting my gift.”</p><p>“You are,” Villanelle reassured her, guiding her forward.</p><p>There was the usual, awkward, shuffling back and forth as she got situated over Eve’s lap. The fabric of Eve’s slacks helped cushion her. Gemma’s toes balanced on the ground while her arms circled around Eve’s leg, gripping the fabric.</p><p>With her legs spread, her back arching, Gemma was very aware that the product of their earlier teasing was on display, gleaming between her legs.</p><p>Eve’s hands pour over Gemma’s body, first trailing down her back, then rounding the curve of her ass, relocating Gemma’s focus.</p><p>Over Eve’s knee, there was nowhere to hide. They could both see her squirming, her core fluttering, expecting something to encounter her arousal. She waited for anything, fingers, mouths, lengths of silicon, the chill of glass, the sting of a spank.</p><p>Gemma was tempted to take the fabric between her teeth as she waited for the first strike. But it never came. Instead, Eve’s roaming hand slipped between her legs. Gemma’s hips shifted, rolling into the touch. Eve wasn’t the type to tease Gemma about how wet she was, at least not with her words. She worked her fingers through Gemma, drenched her hand in it.</p><p>It was enough to interrupt Gemma’s breathing. “Eve,” she panted, it was muffled by the meat of Eve’s thigh.</p><p>Eve’s hand withdrew. Gemma lifted her head, to beg Eve to continue when she saw Villanelle sitting crosslegged before her. The knife balanced in her lap.</p><p>Villanelle drew Gemma into a kiss. Gemma moaned into the kiss as Eve worked a finger inside of her. When Villanelle pulled away, another joined it. Gemma’s knuckles were white as they gripped Eve’s pants. It was then Villanelle picked up the dagger.</p><p>“Stay still. Stay very still,” Villanelle cautioned.</p><p>Eve’s fingers slowed but didn’t exit. Parking inside of her, as Gemma’s skin broke out into ill-advised goosebumps at the sight of it nearing her flesh. The knife continued regardless, clearing an illustrative path through her arm hair. Villanelle’s hand didn’t shake, it was machine-like, tracing Gemma’s outline.</p><p>A knot tightened deep in the pit of Gemma’s stomach, she clenched around Eve’s fingers. It wasn’t a conscious movement, but it was enough to shift her that crucial millimetre.</p><p>The blade bit into her flesh, severing the surface layer of skin, mining for blood. It stung for a second, as pinpricks of red rose to the surface. The unintentional cut served as a more effective warning than any of verbal one Villanelle could offer. A reminder that the sharpened steel was able to divide her, to separate her, as easily as Eve’s fingers.</p><p>“You’ll need to be stiller than that for the real thing,” Villanelle said, producing a tissue and dabbing at the wound. The tissue bloated with blood until it began to coagulate.</p><p>With the knife put aside for now, Eve’s fingers curled and pulsed inside of Gemma, sending her right back into the whining breathy state she’d left her in the first time.</p><p>Her free hand rubbed along Gemma’s back, monitoring her body. Gemma was already bound tight, clutching Eve’s pant leg, her body squirming with no where to go.</p><p>“Tell me when you’re close.” Eve’s voice was measured.</p><p>“Fuck,” Gemma let out. Her inhales crashed into and swallowed her exhales. “I’m close. I’m close!”</p><p>Eve pulled out of her, while a finger lapped her spine. With her wits returned to her, Gemma realised Villanelle was no longer in front of her, she’d settled behind her.</p><p>It wasn’t until Gemma felt an alcohol wipe mark out a square of flesh on her left ass cheek that she realised this was no longer foreplay, this was the moment, and this would be the place. Gemma contorted herself to look back at Villanelle as she ran another wipe over the blade.</p><p>“Maybe we should have marked it out in sharpy or something,” Eve said, breaking their practiced facade with a last second display of nerves.</p><p>Villanelle rolled her eyes. “Relax, Eve. I know what I’m doing.” Then she met Gemma’s eyes, “Are you ready?”</p><p>“Yes,” she said, as Eve took her hand.</p><p>Villanelle’s tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth. Eve leaned over to get a closer look. Then there was the knife’s bite. Its drag. And Gemma’s choked whine from the pain.</p><p>But it was pain that she could never equate with discomfort. Precisely because there was comfort in it, maybe not so much in the cold metal but in the steady hand that guided it, in the firm hands that held her, protecting her from her bodies need to flinch, to bend.</p><p>It shouldn’t have felt that good.</p><p>Fluid flowed as freely as her blood.</p><p>With the line completed; Villanelle covered it. The smell of antiseptic entered the air.</p><p>“You okay?” Eve muttered.</p><p>The rush of endorphins had turned Gemma to jelly as the wound continued to sting. Taking deep measured breaths, the best she could do was nod into Eve’s thigh.</p><p>Villanelle spread Gemma open again, tipping up her hips to capture the swollen bud of nerves in her mouth and drown Gemma in a new sensation. She was gentle, aware Gemma was still so close to the edge. Eve’s hands continued to caress her, massaging the back of her neck and her shoulders.</p><p>The sudden switch was overwhelming. Their touch was so different to the blade’s, tender and alive. Quickly her pain morphed into her pleasure.</p><p>“I’m close.”</p><p>But Villanelle was already pulling away, reading the cues of her body. She lifted the gauze, checking that bleeding had slowed enough. Gemma’s legs were shaking, her feet were aching from holding herself in this position.</p><p>Villanelle helped steady her and instructed, “Shuffle forward.”</p><p>It was Eve’s turn. Gemma didn’t have the strength to try and watch. The new position had sent her head over the edge of Eve’s thigh, blood rushed to her head as she clung to Eve’s leg.</p><p>The knife’s tip drifted over her flesh trying to find the perfect starting point.</p><p>“Careful,” Villanelle whispered.</p><p>It was unclear whether it was directed at Eve or Gemma, but they both held their breath as the knife settled and broke through skin. Eve was the picture of concentration, it was conveyed through knife’s path, in Gemma’s pain and every slight tremor of her hand.</p><p>Eve didn’t relax until the steel was safely away from skin and the wound was covered. But they weren’t done. Villanelle’s fingers found Gemma’s clit even at this awkward angle. Rubbing smooth methodical circles into her before Eve slipped two coaxing fingers inside of her.</p><p>They weren’t so much in sync with each other as they were with Gemma’s body. The sweet note of pleasure they created blossomed into a climax without halting. With it all of Gemma’s tension released and it left her feeling tired and content.</p><p>While Gemma was still in the foggy reaches of euphoria, Eve asked, “Has it stopped bleeding?”</p><p>“It’s slowed,” Villanelle answered peeling back the gauze.</p><p>“Get the proper band-aid.”</p><p>“No,” Gemma started trying to lift herself up. “I want to see it first.”</p><p>It took both of them to get her back on her feet. The world spun for a moment before it too found its footing.</p><p>They didn’t let go of Gemma even when they were standing in front of their mirror. Slowly she turned to peek at the uncovered mark over her shoulder.</p><p>Her skin was stained with the remnants of blood that had flooded the area. The two lines cross perfectly at each other’s midpoint. The lines had their own character though. Gemma was confident she would have been able to pick who drew each line even if she hadn’t felt them do it. Villanelle’s was a little longer, a flourish. You could observe the speed, the confidence in the stroke. Eve’s was a little bolder, it’s depth wavering slightly.</p><p>Villanelle and Eve watched a smile slowly crawl across Gemma’s face in relief.</p><p>A droplet of blood formed as she ogled the fresh cuts, falling down the back of her leg.</p><p>Eve sprang into action. “Okay, fun is over. I’m getting a band-aid.”</p><p>Gemma didn’t look away, stealing another look at it before it was sealed away to heal and scar.</p><p>It was perfect. One stroke each. An eternal kiss.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Is it good? Is it depraved? Who is really to say?<br/>I hope you at least enjoyed it x </p><p>let me know what you think</p><p>twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/we_r_colleagues"> we_r_colleagues </a><br/>tumblr: <a href="https://we-are-colleagues.tumblr.com/"> we-are-colleagues </a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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